


So you're disabled....

by 8BeautifulChaosGirl8



Series: The Life of Dyspraxic Sam [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Diagnosis, Disability, Disabled Sam Winchester, Dyspraxia, Dyspraxic character, Gen, Neurodiversity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6549172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8BeautifulChaosGirl8/pseuds/8BeautifulChaosGirl8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is officially diagnosed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So you're disabled....

Sam’s Dyspraxic story 2 

Sam goes with his brother and father to get formally diagnosed, finding it both terrifying and empowering to finally understand himself. Dean and John come to terms with life after acknowledging the elephant in the room.

=======

Sam stared out the window, squinting a little at the sunlight reflecting off the building. Eyes cinched like this he could just make out the letters on the sign out front. Doctor Akins Therapy and Diagnostic Research.  
“Sam we don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to. If it’s freaking you out, we’ll turn around and forget the whole thing.” Sam turned from the window to see his brother and father peering at him in concern. He smiled a wobbly smile and shook his head.  
“No. I want to go”  
“You sure? Because you don’t have to.”  
“Dean its fine. I’m good. I want to hear what they say”  
“Well let’s go then.” Dean swung the door open and got out. Sam crawled out and stood beside him. John led them up the path and through the gl*** doors.  
The crisp air conditioned air hit them as soon as they got through. Everything was various shades of cream except the couches which were a deep black. The boys took a seat there while John wandered up to the receptionist.  
“Hello Sir, how can I help you today?”  
“I’m here with my son for a diagnostic appointment.”  
“Sure that’s all fine. What is your son’s name?”  
“Sam. Samuel Winchester.”  
The receptionist tapped at the keyboard for a moment before turning back. “You’re scheduled to meet with Dr. Richards in about 10 minutes. If you’d like to take a seat she’ll be out when she’s finished with her last appointment.”  
“Thank you.” John smiled at her and took a seat beside his boys.  
“What did she say Dad?” Dean asked. Sam was looking down at his feet, pulling on his ears like he sometimes did when he was tired or stressed. John stared at him for a beat before realizing his oldest son was waiting for an answer.  
“We’ve got ten minutes. You want to eat the food we brought now or wait until later?”  
“Can I have my yoghurt now?’’ Sam asked, dropping his hand to his side.  
John was about to pull it out when suddenly Sam changed his mind. “No, don’t, I’ll wait til after. Never mind.”  
“You sure Sam? You like this one. It’s the one without bits in”  
Sam glared at John for some unfathomable reason. “I said I’ll wait.”  
“Sam I realize you’re stressed but you still don’t get to talk to me like…”  
“I don’t want to go into the appointment with food all down my shirt okay! I’ll just wait.”  
Now it made sense. Sam was always a messy eater, even more so when anxious. In this place, with its spotless surfaces and gleaming white everything, stains would stick out like a sore thumb. John took a breath, cutting his youngest some slack. “Dean you want anything?”  
Dean looked like he wanted to say yes, but his eyes flicked to Sam and he shook his head.  
“Alright then. We’ll just sit and wait.” John shifted in his seat, getting comfortable as he could in the stark surrounding and tense silence.  
===  
Sam thought maybe he would stand up and scream just to avoid going out of his brain when at last a door in the hallway opened and a woman in dress pants and a white coat came out. She looked vaguely into the waiting room.  
“Winchesters?”  
The Winchesters shot to their feet. “That’s us.” John called back, waving politely. They hurried over to her. She smiled but held up a hand. “Which one of you boys is Samuel?”  
“Me, uh, that’s me” Sam smiled sheepishly.  
“Come on through Samuel. I’m afraid your family will have to stay out here. My ***ociate has a few questions for them?”  
“Questions for us? We’re here for Sammy”  
“As part of the diagnostic process we take testimonial evidence from family members. You may have noticed some things we haven’t and background knowledge is always useful in these situations.” She opened the door to her office. "Go in and take a seat Samuel. I’ll show your family to my ***ociate’s office.”  
Sam did as he was told hesitating for a moment about how to fold his suddenly too long limbs into the little chair. In no time at all Dr. Richards was back, closing her door and taking a seat behind her desk. She tapped at her computer for a moment before turning back to him.  
“First of all, do you prefer Sam or Samuel? I heard your brother calling you Sammy…”  
Damnit Dean! Sam’s cheeks flushed “Sam is fine.”  
“Sam it is then. What brings you here today Sam?”  
“I thought my Dad said, when he arranged it over the phone…”  
“Yes, yes you’re here to investigate a diagnosis possibility. But what do you personally want to get out of today? A diagnostic label? Methods to help you? A piece of paper you can show high school teachers and university professors? What do you hope to walk away with today?”  
“I just want to understand why I am the way I am. Why things that are easy for my brother are so hard for me.”  
She smiled and Sam felt a little less stupid “That we can do. I’ll just get a few details off you for our records and then we’ll start all the testing and things.”

===

Please, go in and take a seat”  
Dean and John shuffled in. John had the inexplicable feeling like he was at a job interview he was completely unprepared for. Dean was reminded of all those times he’d been called into the principal’s office, except 5 times worse

they sat down, John crossing and uncrossing his legs a few times. The doctor sat down in front of them, smiling.  
“Thanks for coming in today. I’m Dr Arrington. I’m on the diagnostic team here and I specialise in family education and outreach. I understand you didn’t believe you would have much to do with the process here today...”

“No, we sort of thought that you would just test Sammy.”

“Well we will complete a series of tests with Samuel but they can only tell us so much. A comprehensive diagnosis and action plan really requires a good deal of background knowledge. Families often have insights that can be overlooked in a clinical setting” 

“So what are you looking to know?”

“Let's start with way back. Sam as a toddler. was he a messy boy?”

Dean snickered and John nodded “Isn’t every toddler?”

“Yes. true. Was he slow to use cutlery?”

“Yeah. he hated his knife and fork, even those plastic little kid ones. He ate everything with his fingers.”

“When he ate at all...”Dean added. 

“He was a very fussy eater” John clarified. Dr Arrington nodded and made a note. 

“When did he start talking?” 

“He said Dean at 1 and a half.” Dean said, grinning at the memory. 

“Mmm and that was all he said until he was 2” John added wryly. 

“Gross motor skills, like catching a ball, running skipping...”

“As soon as he was walking he was banging into things” 

“Covered in bruises. I was sure people thought I was a terrible parent. We had to cover everything in cushions.” 

To John’s relief, the doctor only smiled and added a note. “Yes that’s quite common. How about socializing? did he have many friends?”

John and Dean exchanged uncomfortable looks. John cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m in the military, so we moved around a lot. Sam never really got the chance to... make long term connections with other kids.”

“Was he comfortable around other children at school, kindergarten?”

“He clung to Dean for the first few weeks.” 

“Shy, sensitive?” 

“That’s our Sammy.”

“Fine motor skills like using a pencil, buttoning clothes, tying shoes?”

“On bad days he still struggles with his shoes. We’re saving up right now to get him a laptop for school because his teachers keep saying they can’t read his work.”

Dean looked at John in confusion. John knew Dean knew very well they couldn’t afford a laptop. He made a small gesture that Dean recognised as We’ll talk about it later. Dean nodded and kept quiet 

===

Sam was exhausted. He’d been running, bouncing balls, cutting paper, balancing on beams, doing that silly buzzer, metal loop, track thing and answering question after question after question. 

“That’s great Sam! Thank you, you can have a seat now.” 

Sam slumped down on the couch. There was quiet for a moment as Dr Richards typed.  
this quiet was interrupted by a polite knock at the door and the entrance of Dr Arrington. 

“We’re finished here if you’re ready to discuss.” 

“Almost done. Sam, your family is in the waiting room. If you want to go out and wait with them, we’ll be out in a moment.”

Sam smiled gratefully and hurried out into the lobby. Dean and John ushered him to his seat, eager to hear all about his experience.

“How’d it go Sam?” John asked just as Dean said “What did they say?”

Sam grins, holding his hands up at them both. “Jeez guys chill out. They haven’t said anything yet. They have to confer or something first. 

“Of course they do. Nothing is ever easy with these people” John muttered to himself, pressing his thumbs to his closed eyes. He took a breath and fell back against the chair.

Ignoring him, Dean turned his attention to Sam. “How you feeling? Did they tire you out?”  
“Yeah it was a bit intensive. Not like sprinting round the building but a lot of small things, standing on one foot, catching a ball. They even had this weird motion sensor.”

Dean smiled, listening to his brother geek out about all the funky toys the doctors had. It was good to see the nerves hadn’t taken over completely. This went on a little longer until finally the office door reopened and the Winchesters were ushered in. they all shuffled to their seats. John looked at the Doctors, Dean looked at Sam and Sam looked at the floor. He wasn’t looking forward to a whole bunch of people discussing him, especially when it was about his failings. When both the doctors turned to John, Dean scooted his chair just a little closer. He nudged Sam lightly on the shoulder. Sam didn’t look up but his shoulders eased a little. 

“We’ve both evaluated the results from Sam’s physical, occupational, coordination and social exams, as well as the anecdotal evidence you supplied. Based on our evaluations we have found strong grounds for a diagnosis of dyspraxia.”

Now everyone was looking at Sam. He could feel their eyes on his back. He took a steadying breath and pulled his head up, not meeting their eyes. 

“This is not meant to be something that holds you back Sam. Its just a way to explain yourself to people so they can better understand you. We will write up a full report of our findings which you can use as evidence in applying for any support you may require. We are going to refer you to a team of specialists who can give your resources and facilitate experiences to ***ist you in managing day to day life.”

===

They chat with John for a little bit longer before He and Dean manage to slip out. Dean had snagged the lunch bag so they camped out in the lobby, munching on snacks and hitting the crumpled paper bag back and forth. 

“So you’re dyspraxic. How do you feel?”

How do you feel? Sam’s been asked that a lot in the last few days. You think he’d have an answer by now. He sure wished he did. 

“I don’t know. Good I think. I’m not surprised or upset. It’s kinda nice to have a reason.” Sam takes a breath, thinking for a moment. “It’s a little bit depressing to know I’m gonna be like this forever”

Dean slung an arm over his shoulder. “Don’t you worry Sammy. This is just another thing. We’re gonna kick it in the ***.”


End file.
